


Liquid Courage

by Antiloquist



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Counter Sex, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:58:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antiloquist/pseuds/Antiloquist
Summary: You have no clue what you got up to last night. 76 does, though, and he seems intent on letting you know...





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shatterdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterdreams/gifts).



> Well, I'm not dead. Just been busy with a new full-time job and all that fun fancy stuff. Have a smut.

Your head hurt like hell. That was the _last_ time you tried to outdrink McCree, that was for sure.  
  
Not knowing exactly what time it was, you were tempted to stay in bed. Today was one of your off days, and you thanked your lucky stars you didn’t have to deal with training or a mission with a hangover from hell. What had you even done last night?  
  
Coffee. You needed coffee. Or some sort of sustenance; you didn’t really care.  
  
After downing some painkillers and brushing your teeth, you wandered out into the hall in search of caffeine. The kitchen in the base was oddly quiet. Either most of the team was out on a mission, or it was earlier than you thought. You didn’t exactly mind the lack of noise, though.  
  
One thing was for sure, though; the last thing you expected to see when turning around with a full coffee mug was the impassive figure of one Soldier: 76, standing against the opposite counter. You yelped in surprise, and it was a miracle you didn’t spill any coffee.  
  
76 was a quiet man, so you weren’t really surprised he had been able to enter the kitchen without him noticing.  
  
“Sir!” you exclaimed, wincing at how dead tired you sounded. You still couldn’t remember much of last night. “You startled me!”  
  
The only response from 76 was him shifting his weight from one foot to another, arms firmly crossed. You felt like a specimen under a microscope, faltering a little under the intimidating red of his visor. Why wasn’t he saying anything? The silence was so unbearable, you could nearly hear the sound of your heart beating strong, partially from intimidation, and partially from… _something_.  
  
You didn’t even understand it yourself, but you definitely had a little thing for the enigmatic vigilante. There was just something about a tall, strong, mysterious man that enticed you… not that you’d ever admit it to anyone other than your closest comrades.  
  
And now you two were alone, and he _still_ wasn’t saying anything.  
  
“Sir?” you asked once more, voice sounding clearer but slightly shaky.  
  
It took all of two steps for him to cross the kitchen, hand reaching up to lean against the cabinets. What?! He was a few inches taller than you, so you had to crane your head up to meet the unfeeling gaze of his visor. He brought his other arm up to the other side of you; you were trapped. He was leaning close enough for you to smell the scent of leather and plasma on him, and you felt your face heating up. This was entirely out of character for someone like him, and you were confused, but you were going to go with it. He wasn’t making a move to hurt you, so you didn’t feel much more than the typical worry one feels when being trapped against a counter by a highly trained super soldier.  
  
(As one does.)  
  
Words failed you in that moment, and you wondered if he knew exactly how you were reacting to this.  
  
A moment of silence, and then another before he stepped away from you. “You don’t remember,” he said gruffly. “My bad, then.” You had half a mind to step forward to match him, but then your brain processed his words. Didn’t remember what?  
  
“What are you tal-” you cut yourself off as some of the memories of last night came rushing back. You, losing horribly against McCree in a drinking contest. 76, offering to escort you back to your room. You, making the stupid drunken decision to smack his ass as he turned to walk away. You’d been laughing hysterically at the time. When he’d turned to look at you in shock, all you’d done was blow him a kiss and retreat into your room before he could say anything.  
  
“You remember now,” he said. It was a statement rather than a question.  
  
You swallowed, words failing you once again, but for a different reason this time. “... oh my god,” was all you could say. “I-I am so sorry!” you exclaimed. This was it. You were going to die. Or get written up. Or get transferred to Antarctica. Or something else terrible.  
  
76 took another step back. You couldn’t see his face, but you had a feeling he was frowning. “Knew better than to reciprocate with you drunk like that, but… didn’t think you wouldn’t even remember the next day.”  
  
Wait.  
  
Did he mean what you thought he meant? Was he interested? Another wave of heat rose to your face. All this time, you’d considered the idea of him showing interest a total pipe dream. Sure, you’d flirted here and there, but you’d never made a move… until last night.  
  
“R-reciprocate?” you squeaked out, angry at how small you sounded.  
  
“I’m sorry, agent,” 76 muttered. His usually intimidating stance was gone, replaced by slumped shoulders… was he ashamed? “Guess I read you wrong. Pretend this never happened.”  
  
He turned to go and before you could even think, you’d reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.  
  
“Agent?” he questioned.  
  
Somehow, you’d finally found your voice. “I-I… The drinks weren’t responsible for the… motivation,” you said, grappling for the words. “Just… how I acted on it.” This wasn’t a lie. 76 was all muscle, and more than once you’d caught yourself staring, wondering how he would feel under your touch. Most of the time? You had self-control; these thoughts were just thoughts, and no way were you about to try and make a move on someone who could throw someone across the room with one arm.  
  
The silence in the kitchen was almost deadly. You couldn’t look at him, for fear of what judgmental expression he’d somehow give off even under his mask.  
  
“I-I’m the one who should be sorry, sir,” you said, turning yourself to go. A gloved hand reached up and cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a needy kiss. Wait, when had he taken off his visor?  
  
Any thoughts of leaving the kitchen dissipated instantly as you hungrily reciprocated, reaching a hand up to tangle through his short hair. A clatter sounded to your left, and you realized that 76 had tossed the mask part of his visor onto the kitchen counter beside you.  
  
“I-I-” you stammered as he pulled back from you, allowing you to see his face for the first time. His eyes were a deep blue, pupils slowly expanding, and thick scars made their way down his face in a pair of slanted lines. All in all, ruggedly handsome. You liked what you saw.  
  
“Is this okay?” he asked. “It’s okay if it isn’t, agent.”  
  
Had someone told you last week that you’d be pinned to a countertop and roughly kissed by none other than Soldier: 76, you wouldn’t have believed them. And yet, here you were, fingers tugging softly at his short white hair as you pulled him in for another kiss, not trusting your words at this point. 76 took a step back and you felt your back hitting the countertop. He hoisted you up onto it and you responded by wrapping your legs around his waist.  
  
This seemed to spur him on. He broke his liplock with you and began trailing his lips down your neck, planting kisses and soft nips along the pulse line.  
  
“S-sir!” you exclaimed as his lips brushed a sensitive part of your neck. You opened your mouth to continue but all that would come out was a shaky moan.  
  
76 chuckled softly, a sound that caused the heat to rush up to your cheeks. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling back slightly to admire the flush of your face.  
  
The term of endearment caused your brain to stop short for a brief moment. “Y-yeah,” you finally said. “This is good. Holy shit, this is great.”  
  
“Shoulda said something sooner, agent,” he replied with another chuckle, leaning forward and brushing his lips against your collarbone, slightly exposed by the cut of your pajama top. The stubble on his face scratched lightly against your skin and you shuddered at the friction.  
  
You reacted by reaching forward and tugging down on the zipper of his signature jacket. He pulled back and shrugged the thing off faster than you thought possible for a man of his age. A tug at his shirt and that was gone too, leaving him shirtless.  
  
If his face was scarred, his torso was even more so. Thick lines and blotches made their way across the chiseled muscle of his chest, and it was probably one of the hottest things you had ever seen. You ran your hands over some of the larger scars softly, and savored the way he shuddered in what you hoped was pleasure.  
  
His hands were at your collar, dexterously undoing the buttons of your pajama top. Sometime between kissing you and now, he had removed his gloves, and you didn’t know how he was doing all of this so fast.  
  
You helped him with the buttons and soon your top joined his clothes in a pile on the floor. Having come straight from bed, you weren’t wearing a bra, and he definitely seemed to appreciate this little fact. His hands reached down and cupped your breasts lightly, and you shivered at the sensation of his rough, callused hands on you.  
  
Surging forward, you kissed him again before beginning your own assault on his neck and chest with your lips. At the back of your mind, you realized that maybe the kitchen wasn’t the best place for a tryst like this, but damn if you actually cared. You knew there would be hell to pay if anyone caught you two here, but the sensation of his hands sliding down your stomach to your pajama pants was way more important.  
  
“Can I?” he asked, tugging at the bow that held them up.  
  
“ _Please_ ,” you breathed, and he didn’t need you to say it twice. Taking care not to rip the fabric, he tugged both your pants and panties down in one swoop and added them to the clothing pile on the floor. You were embarrassingly turned on with just the small amount of foreplay he afforded you, and he definitely noticed.  
  
He took a moment, then, to admire your nude form sitting against the countertop. “Beautiful,” he murmured before wetting his fingers with his tongue and sliding two inside you.  
  
“A-ah, sir!” you gasped. You realized that even now, you didn’t actually know his name. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; he safeguarded his identity like nothing else, so it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t mentioned it.  
  
“This okay?” he asked, voice rough with lust. You glanced down to see that he too was enjoying this thoroughly. “You can tell me to stop at any time, sweetheart.”  
  
Your response was to roll your hips, trying to get his fingers deeper inside you. “Don’t you dare,” you hissed, gasping as he crooked his fingers up and hit a spot that had you seeing stars.

(You made a mental note to disinfect this countertop later.)

Swinging one of your legs back around his waist, you nudged him forward from your vantage point on the countertop. Seeming to understand, he hastily undid his belt, freeing himself from the confines of his pants in record time.  
  
“And you’re sure?” he asked. The fact that he was so concerned for your consent made your heart swell just a bit, but you were mostly impatient. You wrapped your other leg around his waist and slid up into him without hesitation, making him groan.  
  
“Sure I’m sure,” you said, smirking at him. He began a steady pace, using the countertop for leverage while thrusting into you with powerful strokes. He was holding back, you knew it, and part of you wanted to urge him to go a little rougher. The knowledge that he was trying to be gentle was a little bit touching, though.  
  
This went on for a few more minutes, kitchen silent except for the creaking of the countertop and the sighs and moans the two of you drew out of each other.  
  
You reached a hand down to the junction between you two and stroked at your clit, pace matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He leaned forward and began kissing down your neck again, pausing to suck a mark right by your collarbone. Thank goodness your usual uniform had a high cut.  
  
“Sweetheart,” he said between gasps. “I-I’m not gonna…”  
  
You reacted by clenching down on him hard, and the effect was immediate. He pulled out of you just in time to release all over your stomach and, unfortunately, the counter.  
  
However, he wasn’t done just yet. Reaching his hand forward, he moved yours out of the way, rough fingers stroking your clit until you too were peaking, gasping out his codename before slumping forward into his arms.  
  
“That was…” you started, burying your face in his shoulder. “That was nice. Guess I should be gutsy like that more often.”  
  
76 chuckled, grabbing some paper towels from behind you and helping clean up the mess before stepping back to let you hop off the countertop. You leaned up and pecked him on the lips softly as you went for your previously discarded clothing.  
  
“What was that for?” he asked. Was he _blushing_?  
  
“You’re sweet,” you said. “Even if you’re terrible at articulating yourself. All you had to do was ask.”  
  
76 pulled his shirt back over his head. “You never said anything,” he protested.  
  
“What, and risk getting reassigned to Antarctica?” you teased, poking him in the shoulder after fastening the buttons on your pajama top.  
  
For a moment, 76 looked surprised. “I-Is that what you thought was gonna happen?”  
  
You giggled. “You’re not exactly the most receptive person out there. Why don’t we talk about it over dinner tonight?” you asked, stepping past him before turning back to wink.  
  
“... Dinner. Sounds good,” he said, after a moment of silence. His visor was back in place, his facade of tough impassiveness taking over once more.  
  
“See you then,” you replied, shooting him a grin as you turned down the hall.  
  
76 watched the sway of your hips as you walked away, realizing he hadn’t felt this kind of thrill for quite a few years.   
  
Tonight, then.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a challenge, sort of. I only had about 2k words to work with, and you know how much I love thousands of words worth of foreplay.
> 
> Be my friend and yell about 76 with me at my tumblr [here](http://antiloquist.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
